Who Loves Root Beer? Sirius Loves Root Beer!
A/N: I'm BACK, baby! NYC was awesome, I saw RENT, Beauty and the Beast, and Chicago. But that has nothing to do with the story; if you want to talk about Broadway you can email me or AIM or what have you. Bottom line is: This chapter is short and wimpy, and the character I promised to give you here isn't here yet, but WILL show up! Je jure! I just wanted to put something up now.
Big apology to give out: To all those authors who wrote fanfics that I read, and then mentally scoffed at because they were always begging for reviews. (Granted, you have no idea who you are, because the scoffing was mental, but so be it.) Guys, fanfic authors have no way of knowing who reads his/her story, how it's going, what's good, what's bad, or anything without your reviews! They really are unbelievably valuable to the writer. Feedback, advice, even just an "I love it!" or, "I hate it!" can make so much difference.
Aaaaaaaaaand the usual disclaimer: That Rowling chick owns Harry Potter and all of the characters mentioned here, except one. A character soon to be introduced (in the next chapter, I promise!), who will be instantly recognizable as not belonging to Rowling, belongs to Léa, a.k.a. crazygirl47, a.k.a. The Most Awesome Fanfic Writer in the Universe (or one of them, as I'm not sure I'm authorized to make that kind of judgment) who wrote the fanfic "The Prank War." If you don't read it, I will bite you. And not in a good kinky way. Because I don't like that kinda stuff. (Oh, and I don't own Kenan and Kel, because if I did, they'd spend a lot less time doing stuff like eating and sleeping and working and a lot more time performing their orange soda skit for me. Over. and over. and over again.
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James came back into the boys' dormitories, with Peter at his heels holding a jar of porcupine quills. Well, to the casual observer, it was just Peter sauntering through the door. But then James whipped off his cloak, and asked the other two boys,
"What's so funny?"
Remus and Sirius froze, and the maniacal grins vanished from their faces. "Er--"
"Well--"
"We were just laughing--"
"That's all, no illicit activities--"
"And I was drinking my root beer--"
"Because he loves root beer, you know, it's true--"
"It really is! I love root beer…" Sirius lost his flustered air for a second and disappeared in a reverie. "Who loves root beer? Padfoot loves root beer! Is it true? Mmmmmm hmmmm! I do! I do! I do…."
"Er, well, yeah. And," this was so weird! Remus, not being able to come up with a good, logical explanation? Wow, this is really out of character, he thought to himself. If I were a Harry Potter fanfiction writer, I bet I'd get no reviews. (Although he didn't know what fanfiction is, because he didn't know that the Harry Potter books existed…hell, he didn't even know Harry Potter existed…. :Goes back to boring inside-Remus's-head narration duties: nevermind…) "well, I drank some, some of the root beer I mean, which is Barq's, which he loves, because he loves it, a lot," he mumbled and motioned to the mutated, burnt aluminum can (hey, you take a trip inside a love potion and see how you come out), "and I didn't like it, so, um, it went out my nose, because, er…well, werewolves can't drink soda, we're allergic, you see." He finished pathetically. "And Sirius started laughing at me, and he looked ridiculous, because, well, he is ridiculous, and I started laughing, and you came in." (Apparently, Remus wasn't finished when he "finished pathetically." My bad.) "And the can is all gnarled because….er….because…. werewolf snot is toxic." He beamed weakly at the three boys, who all cast disbelieving looks at him, and winced slightly. "And. Well…that's that."
"'K then, Prongs, don't you have a potion to make and a girl to snog? Get to it! You don't have all day!" Sirius clapped his hands and rubbed them together, eager to distract the newcomers from Remus's incompetence at a good cover story. James cast his fellow Gryffindor an odd look, but nonetheless jumped (a rather careful jump, mind you) down onto the bed next to his cauldron, added a few more ingredients, the details of which are much too boring to explain (all right! I don't know them! Sue me! I mean…er…yes…), and started to murmur what sounded like intelligible English words, but was too quiet and fast to really tell.
"Lofmyilyrllytrlyshllbmeyenfrevrcooly…" was all Remus could make out amid the babble. Sirius cocked his head, true to his Animagus form, and Peter just dumped the quills behind James and backed away. Eventually, Sirius caught enough words to figure out what he was saying--
"A LOVE poem!" usually his laugh sounded like dog's barking, but this time he seriously rivaled a hyena on crack cocaine. "Oh, man, I wish I had a--the--what's it called? Tape quarter!" He was referring to a weird Muggle electric thing that took down peoples' words and then talked them back to you. "If Lily could hear this…"
The three boys slipped off into various daydreams while James, irate but not being able to stop the incantation, plowed on. Remus was thinking about how Lily would react, knowing that a guy had just referred to her as "Hotter than the sun, and really nice/truly the one, she is my vice--" he supposed she would throw something. He chuckled. That Lily.
Sirius was watching James intently. Man, that kid had determination…a girl had rejected him for six years, six years, and still he kept going at it. Unbelievable patience. Unbelievable. He grinned--that James.
Peter may be called pathetic, a coward, sniveling (well, that one was mostly reserved for Snape) and such, but he wasn't stupid. He'd learned about the device in Muggle Studies with Sirius--he knew that it was actually called a tape reporter. Everyone treated him like he didn't know anything, but he knew that professor Shaste, the Muggle Studies teacher, saw something else in him. She was really something else; she treated him differently. He sighed. That Professor Shaste…
"Sweet and benign, my lovely endeavor/if you'll be mine, be mine forever!" And with that, the lovestruck boy slammed the porcupine quills into the dancing potion.
Remus opened his mouth to tell James that he positively sucked at poetry, but at that moment he had to close his mouth again as he sputtered, coughed, and tried to work out what was causing that horrible stench, when they heard a brain-rattling, ear-shriveling, deathly,
MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
